


Bad Trip: Side Stories

by laridian



Category: The Outer Worlds (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Gen, Prompt Fic, Rocks Fall Everyone Dies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:01:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 7,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28062096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laridian/pseuds/laridian
Summary: Prompt fills and side stories that may or may not get added to the canon story.
Comments: 38
Kudos: 17





	1. First visit to Groundbreaker

**Author's Note:**

> From a prompt on Tumblr, "Come back here right now!"

“Come back here right now!”

Rowan flinched, felt lightheaded, heart hammering in his chest. What had he done? He hadn't done anything. He must've done something. They wouldn't yell for no reason. They wouldn't -

"Captain?" Parvati looked at him with concern.

Rowan looked at her. She wasn't afraid. "What - " He looked around the Promenade. Some people were running away, behind them, toward the far end.

"Someone got desperate enough to steal something, I expect," Parvati said, with sympathy. "Not that stealin's right. But you hear how people get desperate..." Her voice trailed off. "Are you okay?"

It wasn't meant for him. Rowan still felt lightheaded, but that would go down, at least for now, until something else. Because he had _known_ , in that moment, that they had figured out he wasn't Captain Alex Hawthorne, that the _Unreliable_ wasn't his ship, and he was absolutely going to be punished for it.


	2. I Don't Want to Worry You, But...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this [tumblr prompt](https://the-laridian.tumblr.com/post/636136045559349249/for-the-out-of-context-quotes-2-please-with), out of context quotes. Very very early on, it’s just Rowan and Parvati so far, they’ve gotten lost in the wilderness outside Edgewater.

Rowan held the gun gingerly. He… sort-of remembered you weren’t supposed to just call them ‘guns’? That was a rookie thing? But that’s what he was. A civilian. He had no idea how to use this, other than “point this end at something, not you, and pull the trigger”.

And it was heavier than he’d expected, and he really didn’t –

“Captain.”

Rowan looked up to meet Parvati’s eyes.

“I don’t want to worry you, but – “ She bit her lip and looked over her shoulder. “We’re about to get killed. If you don’t start shooting, I mean. It would help. A lot.”

Rowan shifted to a kneeling position and rested the gun barrel on one of the crates. They wouldn’t have cover much longer, not from the yells of the – marauders, or whoever they were. Rowan tried to sight down the barrel, but the bird-dog-animal moved too fast for that, and Rowan gave up and just started shooting.

He didn’t know until later how lucky he’d been, that his first shot had hit the animal’s foreleg and caused it to tumble and crash, where Parvati could dispatch it. It all happened so _fast_ –

Time snapped –

Oh, God, he was dissociating, wasn’t he? Time felt sluggish around him, but it gave Rowan a chance to line up the gun on one of the marauders. They would kill him if he didn’t kill them, he told himself, and squeezed the trigger, closing his eyes as he did so, because he didn’t want to see another person die, not when he was responsible.


	3. Sprat Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [this tumblr post](https://the-laridian.tumblr.com/post/636140086645407744/out-of-context-quotes-9-rowan), out of context quotes.

“Into the box. Now.” Rowan gestured to the box. The white sprat looked at the box, looked at him, and skittered off.

“No! Get back here!” Rowan lunged after it. “C’mon, don’t you want to go home? You’ve got a perfectly good home! Lots of food, lots of – “ Wait, that might be it. He stopped chasing the sprat, and checked his bag for any food. There it was, a bag of lichen chips (flavor: Sun Space, whatever that was).

Fifteen minutes later, Rowan had a trap set up, with a line of lichen chip pieces leading to the box. If he got even one of these escaped pets back, it would be a miracle, but pet sprats probably couldn’t live on their own in the wild. He imagined the wild sprats wouldn’t fall for this, if Rowan’s experience with Earthly rodents was applicable.

Rowan moved far enough away that he shouldn’t be seen as a threat. He hoped so, anyway. Then it was time to wait.

And wait.

And it paid off, in that a different one of the fancy sprats, a multi-colored one with a white star on its head, found the chip trail and successfully followed it into the box trap, where it chirruped in irritation.

Rowan breathed a sigh of relief. One down. Now he just had to extract this sprat from the trap, get it into the carrier, and hope the others were just as gullible. Or… could he leave this one in here? Would it warn the others? Or would they come find it? He gave it some extra chips and it stopped chirruping and settled down with “nom nom” noises.

They were cute, in a way. Cuter than Earth rats. “Call your friends to come get some,” he said to the trapped sprat. “It’ll go easier on all of us.”


	4. Investor Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [this tumblr post](https://the-laridian.tumblr.com/post/637406668336103424/wine).  
> Happy Investor Day!

“We should get _something_ for Investor Day,” Felix said. “Boss hasn’t ever had Investor Day before.”

Max rubbed his forehead.

“I don’t know that the Captain even knows what Investor Day is,” Parvati said. “And we don’t have to buy something for it. Now that none of us are part of a company family anymore.”

“Miss Holcomb is correct,” Max said. “We are no longer obligated to support Investor Day in any way, and, Mister Millstone, buying things for Investor Day supports the Board, which I thought you had principles about.”

“I… what?”

“He means we shouldn’t give the Board our money, buying things like that,” Parvati said.

“Well… yeah, okay, when you put it like that. But maybe we could, like… still have a little party? You know. Some algae puffs, Triple-B, Investor Day cookies?”

Parvati looked to Max. “That sounds like it wouldn’t cause any harm, right, Vicar?”

Max gave in. “But I choose the adult beverages,” he said, looking pointedly at Felix. “No more of that disgusting Rizzo’s swill they call wine.”

“I like Purpleberry Wine,” Felix said, looking hurt. “It doesn’t burn like those others.”

“I’d appreciate you getting something not too strong, Vicar,” Parvati said. “I don’t know that I want to try anything with a real kick either.”

“A Spacer’s Choice light pistol has more kick than Purpleberry Wine,” Max countered. “But, fine. I’ll pick up a small bottle.”


	5. Laundry Day on the Unreliable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [this tumblr post](https://the-laridian.tumblr.com/post/637420701356277760/laundry-for-rowan-andor-your-tow-setting).

“It should work now.” Parvati stepped back from the laundry bin. Nobody moved forward to inspect it. “Really.”

“ADA?” Rowan asked, looking toward the ceiling. ADA’s voice always seemed to come from the ceiling, but it was hard to pinpoint exactly where.

“Captain, you must remember that the laundry apparatus was working correctly, at least according to my diagnostics.”

“ADA, it melted my pants,” Felix said.

“At least you had a second pair,” Ellie said. “I really didn’t want to see you letting it all hang out until we got another one.”

“It is possible that the laundry apparatus did work correctly, but the article in question was not supposed to be in the apparatus,” ADA said.

“They weren’t plastic,” Felix said.

Rowan pushed his hair back out of his eyes. “Okay. Uh. Do we have anything we can – “ he’d better not say ‘sacrifice’ – “test the repaired laundry machine?”

Nobody rushed forward with anything. Rowan himself had only two sets of clothing, much like the rest of his crew, and he didn’t want to lose any of them. He looked at Parvati. “You’re certain? This is fixed?”

“Really, truly, Captain,” she said. “Annie here just needed a good cleaning out.”

Parvati hadn’t named any machines in a while, but Annie was as good as any a name for the thing, Rowan decided. He took a deep breath. Time to be the Captain. “Okay. Let me get my other shirt and we’ll give it a try.”

Everyone looked very relieved at this. Rowan grumbled his way back to his cabin. Maybe it wasn’t the fanciest thing, but when you only had two sets of clothes, the risk of losing any of them felt big.

Rowan held back the desire to pronounce a eulogy in advance, and tossed his shirt into the bin. Parvati closed it up and pressed the buttons.

Everyone waited.

Five minutes later the machine buzzed, and Rowan gingerly opened it to look for his shirt. Steam came off it, and he jerked back his hand. “That’s really hot,” he said.

“It’s sanitized for your protection,” ADA said.

“It… also used to be… not that color,” Rowan said. But at least it was intact. For now.


	6. Idioms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [this prompt](https://the-laridian.tumblr.com/post/637510401416904704/take-it-easy-for-rowanthe-outer-worlds) on Tumblr.

"Take it easy, Nyoka," Ellie said in what she probably thought was a soothing voice. "It's only another day to Monarch."

"Easy for you to say!" Nyoka snapped. "If that automechanical hadn't dropped my crate - "

"Any better?" Rowan asked, entering the kitchen with an armful of Glacier Waters.

Nyoka glared at him. "No, it's not better! It won't be better until I get either some Spectrum or some caffeinoids in my system, and you know it!"

Rowan shrank a little from the intensity of her voice. "You've got a real monkey on your back, don't you?" he asked, placing the bottles in the fridge.

Ellie and Nyoka stared at him. "A what on my what?" Nyoka asked.

"A monkey. On your back. It means you're addicted."

"What's a monkey?"

"It's, uh, a small creature, it bites, it flings its poop at people."

If Nyoka was still confused, at least she wasn't actively angry now. "Why would it be on my back? Is that how they hunt you?"

"Uh... I think it means that..." Rowan realized he really didn't know what it meant. Just that he'd always heard it. "I mean, it's gotta feel pretty bad, right? Having this biting animal with filthy hands clinging onto you? Kinda like when you don't get enough alcohol?" he hazarded.

Nyoka considered this. "That's not quite how I'd put it," she said. "Where do these things live? Are they on Terra-2? One of the asteroids?"

"They sound like they could cause infection," Ellie said. "Do they hunt alone, or in packs?"

"A pack of those things all dropping on you? That would be trouble."

Rowan decided to get some more drinks from the cargo hold. At least Nyoka was distracted now instead of angry. If only the loading automechanical hadn't dropped her crate of Spectrum, all this might've been avoided.


	7. Investor Day Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From [this prompt](https://the-laridian.tumblr.com/post/637672125287858176/cookies) on Tumblr.

“Have you considered,” Max asked, speaking patiently and carefully, “that we are all adults, there will be no children present, and those are children’s cookies?”

“I like them,” Felix said, standing up taller. “And there’s no law says we can’t have Cozy Colony Cookies for Investor Day. It’s tradition.”

Max’s expression showed what he thought of that.

“Look, you keep trying to make this some fancied-up thing,” Felix went on. “But it’s Investor Day. You have Colony Cookies on Investor Day.”

“Not in my household, we didn’t.”

“Well, your family was – “

“I got the cookies!” Parvati announced happily. She held three big boxes of Colony Cookies. “In Synnamenth, CCN76, and Purpleberry. I wasn’t sure which flavor the Captain might like.” The box featured pictures of the cookie shapes: rockets, planets, and various animals of Halcyon. “I remember having these when I was little.”

“My point exac – “ Max began.

“I didn’t know they came in Synnamenth now,” Felix said.

“I didn’t either, this is new. I bet they’ll taste good with wooly cow milk. CCN76 always tastes good with Trip-Teaz.”

“We’re gonna need milk, then. Max? Can you buy that?”

Max gave in. “Yes, fine, I’ll… buy milk for your cookies. I hope the Captain appreciates these efforts.”

“Hey, it’s Boss’s first Investor Day,” Felix said. “We gotta make it special.”


	8. Don't Miss It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From [this prompt](https://the-laridian.tumblr.com/post/637715694684864512/december-prompts-snowman) on Tumblr.

If there was one thing Rowan liked about Halcyon – there weren’t many – it was that so far, every settlement he’d visited, every town, had been in a temperate weather zone. Monarch air was half unbreathable, and Cascadia and Stellar Bay were so windy, but it wasn’t cold.

He was grateful for that. He didn’t miss winter on Earth at all, the bitter cold, the biting wind, the slushy gray snow that always soaked through his shoes, the constant ongoing Christmas music that ran for two or three months, to where the recordings sounded harsh and bent. The cheerful, inoffensive, generic decorations of baby deers and snowmen and Santas and elves, that hung in every store window that didn’t have its own mascot specially dressed for the holiday.

The only thing he might miss was that he didn’t have to work Christmas Day – most years – but now he had days of nonwork travel between jobs. Climate control in the Unreliable. Decent temperatures on planets.

Rowan tried to think of anything else he liked about Halcyon, the colony. His crew, he decided. They were the only other good thing about this place.


	9. And It'll All Be Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From [this prompt request on Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.social/posts/1952951): 6. A turning point in their life – Rowan, pre-game

Rowan remembered he’d been terrified at submitting his application. He’d get shot down for even thinking he was qualified to be a space colonist. What did he have to offer? He was just a lab janitor. Nobody important. But apparently someone realized they needed someone to clean up spills and deal with toilets clogged because someone tried to flush something they shouldn’t, and…

The day he’d submitted his application, he’d been absolutely terrified.

The day he’d received his acceptance letter, he’d been convinced it was a mistake. They wouldn’t want someone like him along. Would they?

But when it had sunk in – that he’d been accepted – he was going to go to space, to another planet! He was going to a space colony! – it felt like in a show, when suddenly the music changed to a choir, and the sun came out from behind the fake clouds, and there was that dumb lens flare that Rowan had never seen in the real world. _He was going to space._ He was going to start over. He was going to _start over, dammit!_

He would do his very best at his new job. And nobody there would know who he was. They wouldn’t have to know anything about him as he existed right now. He could be a whole new person. And he’d try to talk to people. He’d make new friends. Probably. He’d really try, anyway. And he’d be someone that people would want to have around, and invite out for drinks, or to parties on the weekend. He might even – hell, if he was going to plan big – he’d get himself a steady – _boyfriend_ was such a weird word, when Rowan was already thirty-eight; a steady romantic partner. There. Like that. He could do it, he told himself. He _would_ do it. He would sleep on the ship, and when he woke up on an alien planet, everything was going to be better.


	10. It's Not Important

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From [this post on Tumblr](https://the-laridian.tumblr.com/post/638708745974710272/strangefable-asked25-17-21-one-number-for). (also: v angsty)  
> 25\. A birthday memory - Rowan

“I can’t believe you can’t remember your birthday, Cap.”

“It’s just taking me a minute,” Rowan protested. “I don’t need to think about it all that much.”

Ellie shook her head. “Unbelievable.”

“Oh, like you’ve been to those big birthday parties like they show in the serials,” Felix said, his voice full of sarcasm. “Maybe us regular folk don’t get to have that kind of fun.”

Rowan had thought he’d remember the date more easily himself. He’d never had any birthday parties himself. Nor any real notice of them at all. Not until he’d flushed out of uni, and tried to go home, and his mother had found him sitting on the old beat-up couch, crying, and she’d asked what the fuck he was doing home.

And he’d said, he’d flushed out, he was so stressed, and he didn’t know what to do. And she’d said that he could get his lazy ass out of her crackerbox within twenty-four hours, because then he’d be a legal adult and she sure wasn’t carrying his ass any longer than she had to, if he couldn’t stay in school. He knew what that meant; as long as he was in school, she got some kind of subsidy for him. And that was over, because he’d flushed out.

And the next day, his birthday, he didn’t have anywhere to stay or a means of support, but he had to find something, fast.

“Captain?”

Rowan came back to the present. “My birthday’s not important,” he said. It never had been. 


	11. The First Other Planet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From [this prompt](https://the-laridian.tumblr.com/post/638762255932080128/strangefable-asked-25-17-21-one-number-for): A memory of the first time they did an activity they love.

Every time Rowan stepped into the wilderness of Terra 2, he felt it all over again: that amazing sensation of being on another planet, the colors, the beauty of it all. From the first step he’d taken, seeing those fluffy trees and listening to the wind in the tall grasses, watching the pterorays and other flying creatures overhead; it was such a beautiful world. He might regret many things in his life, but he always treasured his good fortune in being on another planet, and that it was so beautiful.

Of course, all the planets and moons and asteroids had their own beauty. But that first time on Terra 2, when he’d had a moment to look around him? It felt like he’d gone from gray to color. He’d wanted to spend hours just observing, drinking it all in.

Even now, so much later, that feeling hadn’t dimmed or faded. Felix understood it, Rowan thought; sometimes they’d walk the wilderness near Edgewater or Roseway together, not talking, just surrounded by the first other planet they’d ever visited.


	12. It Wasn't Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From [this prompt on Tumblr](https://the-laridian.tumblr.com/post/638967988957085696/4-did-you-just-sniff-me-the-outer-worlds).

"Okay," Rowan breathed. "Everyone just stay quiet. No sudden moves." If they could get through this without someone shushing someone else, and being incredibly stealthy, and not attract any notice or trip any alarms...

They eased forward. Rowan went first; he'd drawn the short straw.

"Quiet," he heard Parvati whisper, and he shook his head. But then nobody talked, and they made it behind the racks of crates and to the access hatchway. It was dark in here, but Rowan was nervous about risking the torch. It was also a lot tighter; they kept close together.

They came to the end of the hatchway. The exit was covered by a grille, and Rowan looked through the bars. Somehow this hatch was at the top of a room; this place was laid out all weird. Some scientists worked downstairs, clad in rubber tunics and gloves and full head protection. That didn't sound good for Rowan, Parvati and Felix.

"Did you just sniff me?" Parvati whispered.

"What? No!" Felix protested. "Why would I do that?"

"I don't know!"

Rowan tried to make the quietest shushing noise he could. He hoped the scientists couldn't hear anything through that headgear.

"You did it again!"

"It's not me! Besides, you smell like engine grease and old metal, why would I want to sniff that?"

Rowan turned to glare at them, but any rebuke died before he could say it, as he saw, reflecting the weak light from the grille, five enormous eyes from something behind Parvati and Felix.


	13. Rowan & Martin's Latte-In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested on Tumblr. _[In a coffee shop AU, who would be the coffee shop employee and who would be the customer? For Rowan and Max.](https://the-laridian.tumblr.com/post/639870426184597504/otp-questions-8-for-rowan-and-max-please)_
> 
> I remembered the name of an old TV show and thus our good buddy M. Callahan is in here too. Name of the fic is as close as I could make it match with coffee. Also this is the first time I have written a coffee shop AU that was longer than 75 words.

"I don't think this is going to work," Martin droned.  
  
"It... probably will," Rowan said. "If we don't get some sales, we don't get tips, we're out of a job - "  
  
"I hate your pep talks," Martin said. He adjusted his mascot head. "How do I look?"  
  
"Like the walking embodiment of our corporate mascot," Rowan said, and it was true. He didn't know why Martin was assigned to mascot duty; Martin's delivery tended to scare people off. "Good luck."

  
Whether Martin was bringing in customers, Rowan didn't know; people bought Moonbrew coffees no matter what, because it was everywhere and standardized. Like McDonalds, Rowan thought, with the coffee as mass produced as anything else, given the meaningless label "gourmet" and - damn, he'd better pay more attention. At least he wasn't the only one behind the counter.  
  
The morning rush slowed, Martin was still out there, and Rowan, Ellie and Parvati got a chance to clean and catch their breath. "I'm goin' out for a smoke break," Ellie announced. "See, if you guys smoked, you could get extra breaks too."  
  
"That's not how it works," Parvati said, wiping down the counter.  
  
"Why d'you think Martin likes that mascot job? It's so he doesn't have to work in here. Even if the suit smells like someone peed in it." Ellie went out the back door.  
  
Parvati looked at the back door, then to Rowan. "Rowan, can you handle register for a while? That one Karen - "  
  
"Yeah, sure. Go take a break if you want. It's quiet, I can handle things, or I'll scream if I need one of you," Rowan said, and tried to smile.  
  
"Thanks," she smiled back. "Oh, hey, it's your regular!" she chirped, in a way that sounded very staged. "I'll be back in two shakes of a cat's tail!"  
  
"That's not - forget it," Rowan muttered as Parvati also went out the back door. His regular? The only person coming in the shop was that administrator guy from the college. "Welcome to Moonbrew," Rowan began, "where every flavor - "  
  
"Yes, yes, you don't have to repeat it," the customer said. "Cafe Americano, two shots."  
  
That's right, Max. Maximum caffeine, zero sugar. "Anything else, sir?"  
  
"What do you recommend from those?" Max pointed at the display of pastries and other baked goods.  
  
"Uh... well, they're all trucked in, none of them are made on site." Why was he even saying this? "But - " Max didn't have sweet coffee drinks, might not want a sweet pastry? "If you want something that's actually good for eating, like to save for lunch? I'd go with the eggs and cheese box lunch. The hot ham and swiss is good, but if you have to wait, the box lunch is better."  
  
"The box lunch, please."  
  
"Yessir." Rowan wrote "MAX" on the drink even though nobody else was here. (What were Ellie and Parvati doing, anyway? Girl talk?) Rang up the customer's total, "Here you go."  
  
"Thank you, Rowan." No surprise that Max knew his name, everyone had name tags, but it was nice to hear someone refer to him by name. "When is your lunch break?"  
  
"Me? Uh..." Do not say anything negative about employment here. "It's... whenever. You know." Rowan waved a hand vaguely.  
  
"Then eat this whenever you have that time." Max handed back the box lunch, picked up his coffee, and left.  
  
Rowan looked at the box in his hands, confused. Max had just bought him lunch? Did Rowan look that bad off? Well... he couldn't put it back in the fridge now, if he didn't eat it, he'd have to throw it out.  
  
"Hey, dingus, how'd it go?" Ellie was back, smelling of smoke.  
  
"How'd what go?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. "The guy who's so into you. Did you talk to him this time?"  
  
Rowan had no idea what she was talking about. But - Max had bought him lunch. Was that supposed to mean something? Other than being nice?  
  
"Whatcha got there?" Ellie pointed at the box, like she couldn't tell what it was.  
  
"Lunch. For me, I mean."  
  
"Livin' the high life now, huh? Go eat before the next crowd comes in."


	14. The Real Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For 52 Weeks of Fanfic, Week 4 challenge: Alternate Universe. Phineas Welles thaws out the colonist he originally intended, instead of Rowan Dane.

“Here we are… One moment and – “ Phineas Welles stopped. He checked the manifest, looked again at the pod serial numbers. He’d almost forgotten the manifest, in his rush. It just proved, don’t rush, even in a case like this where speed was essential. If he’d forgotten the manifest, he’d have had to hope he remembered the right pod.

And here was the proof, as he’d almost released some other person instead of the intended colonist. Wouldn’t that have been awkward!

And… there! Bowman, organochemist. Highly motivated, intelligent, should be able to help Welles quickly resolve the problems that lay before Halcyon.

~ ~ ~

“What are you _doing?”_ Welles yelled to nobody.

He could still receive aetherwave signals, particularly news, and all the news was about the mad stranger, killing everyone and leaving a wake of death and destruction.

“You’re supposed to keep a low profile!” Welles continued. The cystypig looked at him, uncaring. “Not to shoot up an entire squad of Spacer’s Choice security! Feed an engineer to the cannery! What’s wrong with you?”

He paced, muttering. Was it the long effects of cryostasis that had rendered Bowman mad? Was it some otherwise unknown variable? If only he had enough chemicals to free one more colonist, perhaps he could try again, but – what if the other one was just as insane as this one?

The Board would take notice, there was no escaping this. They’d send more troops in an attempt to slow this… this disaster down. If they captured Bowman, and the latter decided to talk in an attempt at plea-bargain… the Board would find out about the _Hope_. Find out that Welles had been there. The hunt would escalate, for releasing that monster in human form onto Terra-2.

Had Bowman determined how to use Hawthorne’s ship yet? Welles hadn’t heard a word from Bowman after the initial pod landing and discovering of Hawthorne’s death. If Bowman’s rampage continued to the rest of the colony…

Welles stopped pacing. He wasn’t safe here. He doubted Bowman would come _here_ , but the Board would step up their search. Perhaps, if all attention was on the terror that was Bowman the Organochemist, Welles might sneak in and get those chemicals himself. If he could do that, even just enough for one or two more colonists… well, he’d find out if Bowman’s insanity was a common factor, wouldn’t he. And if not, maybe the next ones could talk sense into their fellow colonist.

~ ~ ~

NEWS from the FRONTIER!

As the death toll on Terra-2 reaches catastrophic proportions, there is a bright moment from Byzantium. The terrorist Phineas Welles was shot and killed while infiltrating our fairest of cities. The officer who ordered the shooting was awarded two hundred bits for quick thinking, and fined ten thousand bits for not bringing Welles in alive.

BREAKING NEWS! ALERT!

It has just been discovered that the bloodthirsty madman, or madwoman, as their identity has not been completely discerned, who has committed so much FWA across Terra-2, to the massive detriment of Halcyon’s bottom line, has gained control of a ship and now has interplanetary reach. Employees are encouraged to stay home or at work at all times and avoid open areas. The Terror of Terra-2 is ruthless and strikes without warning. Do not approach. Leave any contact to security forces. All spaceports and Groundbreaker are warned to not allow any incoming ships until UDL can find and destroy the Terror’s ship.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled advertising.

_“Suck it! Chew it! You can do it! It’s Rizzo’s Purpleberry Bunch! Woah, woah woooooah, it’s Rizzo’s!”_


	15. Conrad Sadik

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This came from a discussion of "How to get Conrad Sadik onto the Unreliable as a companion."  
> Notes at the end.

_"I can’t ask Silas to dig up a man’s body and pry a few teeth loose from his jaw, just to pay my bills. Can I?"_

_"You’re going to have to."_

_"...Yes, I suppose I must. Here you are. Gravesite papers, affixed with my signature, and an IOU."_

~ ~ ~

It was still an IOU.

Conrad had owed money his entire life, to Spacer’s Choice, to the store, to various people. Now he had the IOU for the gravesite fees, and those gold teeth as collateral… As much as he disapproved of using Eugene’s gold teeth for that, he wondered now if he shouldn’t have taken them, figured out how to pawn them, and gotten some of this debt paid off.

(If he could win big one time, just once, betting on tossball, everything would be different, he knew it.)

It wasn’t being in debt so much – everyone owed something, usually to Spacer’s Choice – but the amount. He could skate by month to month, borrowing from one person to pay another, and sometimes he won enough money gambling that he could pay a few off at once, but this new debt made it worse.

He told himself he shouldn’t care what happened to his body afterward. He shouldn’t. He, his consciousness, wouldn’t be in it. His spirit would have gone on to a better place. But the thought of marauders or wild animals – Conrad closed his eyes. It didn’t bear thinking about.

He’d overcharged the stranger in town, the one who looked better off than most Edgewater residents, for a haircut, but that was once. Maybe he needed to start checking the dead more often…

Conrad shook his head and got back to work. Some embalmers in Byzantium got to fix up their clients, he had heard, make them look good for a last viewing. Nobody in Edgewater ever needed that. Conrad was content with that state of affairs; the less time he spent with the dead, the better. They were utterly disgusting after enough time.

And since he’d run out of the chemicals to perform a proper embalming, Conrad had taken to quick fixes, a fair amount of cheap cologne or aftershave to hide the smell, and bagging or wrapping the bodies so Silas only had to drop them in their graves. No viewings. Quick burials, too, before they got very bad.

He understood the proper care and styling of hair, Conrad thought, as he noted the current body had an authorized and recent cut. Years of practice had led to competence. He couldn’t say the same about his embalming or surgical prowess, and he suspected people in Edgewater were catching on. He’d been treated against the plague already, once, before the deserters had left town. If he couldn’t pay his fees, if he fell further into debt, he’d lose any chance of that happening again, and then he’d be dumped outside the walls…

Conrad hesitated, then gingerly opened the corpse’s mouth with one gloved finger. No gold teeth. Void take him, was this what he was down to?

Yes. It was. Conrad tried to ignore the feeling he’d sunk so low, even as he rifled the corpse’s pockets.

~ ~ ~

Conrad didn’t pay much attention to the stranger in town; sometimes strangers came in from other Spacer’s Choice employment settlements, after all. It wasn’t Conrad’s business why they visited. After a few days, he realized the stranger was still in the area, which was mildly interesting; must be someone of importance, perhaps? Though maybe not. At least proper aesthetic standards had been maintained.

There was a brief lull in plague victims, the Architect be praised. Conrad did his job to the best of his ability, and _he’d_ still gotten sick, but so many people were dying now. If he’d done his best and it wasn’t good enough, it was likely that some of the others had been in the same situation…?

No. He was the anomaly. The others just needed to work harder. Poor moral fiber.

Conrad scrubbed everything down with extra vigor that evening.

~ ~ ~

Some days later, Conrad checked his bit status. He wanted a zero-gee tonight, or maybe two of them. Normally he owed Amelia for his tab, but he’d borrowed money from Rosemary Kwan, who didn’t expect to live much longer, and, to his shame, he’d found two dead residents there, and looted the bodies. Eventually they’d be brought to his shop, he knew, but he’d beaten anyone else for stealing from the dead.

It was distasteful and made his skin crawl, but he’d found not only some bits, but two cans of Saltuna, and some Spacer’s Chaw he could sell to the general store. Keeping the Saltuna for himself, the rest meant he could afford to visit the cantina. Maybe he could place a bet on the next match? He shouldn’t, but if he won…

Amelia still wanted him to pay off his tab first, and thanks to his newly acquired bits, he did, and started a new one.

Conrad sat away from the others, not wanting to potentially catch something from them. Though it sounded like Adelaide had discovered a cure? Well, that was all for the best, then, wasn’t it? If Adelaide had found a cure, then people would stop getting sick… which meant fewer deaths, which was a good thing, but it meant he’d have to rely more on his barber trade to get by. Lots to think about there. But curing the plague was good, yes, for the town, for everyone in it.

~ ~ ~

The stranger was still around – running errands or searching for something, as Conrad understood from gossip – but that didn’t worry him nearly so much as getting called to Adelaide’s office. What had he done? Nothing he could think of. Perhaps she only wanted an overview of his work. She was, after all, the new boss.

(Conrad hadn’t heard what had happened to the Tobsons after Adelaide returned. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. They were gone, and nobody spoke of them now.)

The office looked no different, except for Adelaide behind the desk now. Conrad waited patiently for her to speak. When she looked at him, it wasn’t friendly.

“I’ve been reviewing your records,” she said without preamble, without that sweet old-lady voice he remembered from before she was a deserter. “It says here that you received treatment for plague.”

“That’s absolutely correct,” Conrad said smugly. “It was highly necessary, as I am the official Spacer’s Choice surgeon for this town.”

“And the undertaker.”

“Yes.”

“And the barber.”

“Correct.”

“You’ve got IOUs across half of Edgewater,” Adelaide pointed out. She looked at her terminal screen, which Conrad couldn’t see. “Three jobs and you can’t make ends meet?”

“I am not in danger of debtor’s prison,” Conrad said, then remembered, probably far too late: “Administrator.”

“Barely. And your performance as a doctor is abysmal.”

Conrad began to sweat. This wasn’t something he could easily deny or evade. Maybe best to keep quiet.

“Why, exactly, was plague treatment given to someone who is barely competent at his most important job?” She lay her hands on the desk, and Conrad had the momentary fear that she would produce a pistol and shoot him right there on the spot.

“Administrator Tobson authorized it,” Conrad said. Tobson wasn’t around to deny it, it was the truth, and based on Adelaide’s expression, it was the wrong thing to say.

“Tobson made some questionable decisions,” Adelaide said.

The silence hung in the air. Conrad didn’t know what he could say at this point to make things better. Everything she’d said was the truth. Lying or denying wouldn’t work or help.

“Nothing to say?” Adelaide asked at last, in her nice voice, with a smile.

“No, Administrator.” Conrad wasn’t going to dig himself into any deeper a hole than Silas was likely already preparing.

~ ~ ~

Adelaide had cleaned house at the cannery. Tobson and his wife were gone. Conrad knew he must be next. For some reason she was angry that he’d received plague treatment; it was hardly his decision! Tobson had made that choice, and Conrad remained grateful for it, because it had given him that much longer to live.

But whether he was exiled out of Edgewater, or ordered to undergo spontaneous organ donation, it meant the same thing: Conrad Sadik was a doomed man.

But what could he do? Nothing that he could see. People were already coming to collect what he owed, as if they knew something he didn’t, and he didn’t have much left in the way of bits or goods to pay them off.

Returning from another attempt to loot anything even remotely of value from the sick house’s residents – alive or deceased, at this point – Conrad saw some of his creditors waiting at the door to the shop. They were… armed. With blunt instruments. Conrad made an immediate right turn and tried to think what to do. There was no back way into the shop, but if they were waiting there, they might be at his home too, and it wasn’t hard to find where he lived.

Conrad saw the stranger, with the Vicar and the – who was it? Holcomb! That was her name – standing in the street, talking. A desperate idea came to him.

Conrad marched up to the little group. The engineer Holcomb looked curiously at him; the Vicar was just irritated Conrad was interrupting. Conrad looked the stranger in the eyes.

“I’d like to join your crew,” Conrad said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silas the inhumer notes that Conrad is perpetually in debt of one kind or another. Conrad also has three jobs, so in theory he should be making enough; simply being a germophobe and spending on disinfectant doesn't seem like it should eat up whatever money he's got. So: he's bad at money management and doesn't know how to play the odds gambling.
> 
> Conrad got plague treatment because he's a doctor (albeit a terrible one I wouldn't trust with a paper cut) while Adelaide's son was denied treatment. I think she'd be a little upset about that. Is she actually planning anything against him? Who knows?
> 
> Obvious solution: leave town and flee his creditors. Easiest way to do that? Get onto the only ship leaving town anytime soon. Figure out the rest later.


	16. Take the Lead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max and Rowan are in an established relationship, and while docked at Byzantium, Max decides they need to go on a real date for once.

“You,” Max said, “are in a rut.”

Rowan looked up from the fridge, where he’d been looking to see what to make for dinner. “What?”

“A rut, as in, habit, stagnation – “

“I know what the word means.” Rowan closed the fridge door. “But what did you mean by it?”

“The last time I asked you if you’d like to go out,” Max said, “you said you were fine staying home.”

“And?”

“And the time before that, you insisted on only picking up takeaway instead of actually visiting a restaurant.”

“It’s cheaper – “

“May I propose,” Max interrupted, “choosing the venue for the evening?”

“I… okay?” Rowan felt a little stung, but Max was right; Rowan was so used to staying home and going out only for necessities, that it had become all too easy for him to limit his world to the Unreliable and leave it at that. “After we eat, or – “

“No.” Max leaned both hands on the table as he stood. “We leave in fifteen minutes. Wear something nice.”

~ ~ ~

Rowan grumbled to himself the entire time he got ready: combing hair, picking out something to wear – dammit, Max wanted him to wear something nice… not that there was anything wrong with that, but Rowan always felt weird wearing something expensive, like everyone could tell he didn’t deserve it.

Fine. He’d wear the most expensive thing he owned, which was that dark green suit that actually kind of looked good on him. Rowan hadn’t even worn it yet, not out of the house or anything. He’d tried it on at the store, they’d bought it, and it had stayed in the closet ever since.

There was the sudden fear that Max would pick a place way out of Rowan’s league. Max wouldn’t do that to him. Probably. He hoped. _Please just let it be dinner_ , he thought.

Parvati saw him before he got to the airlock. “Captain! You’re looking fine this evening. Going somewhere?”

“…Yes,” he said, because it was true. “Max and I are, uh – “

“Good evening, Miss Holcomb,” Max said. Dark blue suit for him. He always did look good in that color, Rowan thought.

“Evening, Vicar.” She’d never been able to stop calling him that. “Don’t misbehave much!” she said, smiling, as they went to the airlock.

~ ~ ~

“So where are we going?” Rowan asked. It was a fine summer night, as best he could tell the season, and Byzantium did have nice weather. Clear, a few lingering clouds on the horizon, and for once he was dressed appropriately to this place. He remembered some story about how the upper classes could always tell immediately when one of the lowers appeared in their midst, in the story it had been by an aura or something –

“Koreen’s,” Max said.

“Can we afford it?”

He felt Max sigh, that world-weary, I-am-trying-to-be-patient noise that Rowan often used himself. “Do you trust me?” Max asked.

“…Sorry.” And Rowan was. He was just so used to living on the edge of ruin. “I trust you, Max.”

“Then, and I mean this in the best way, please stop worrying.”

Rowan nodded.

Koreen’s was a club. It was dark inside, and there was a little dance floor and a band playing and a singer in front. It sounded like it was actually real music, not just advertising jingles, Rowan realized. _Real music._

The club was full, but Rowan and Max got a small table well off to one side. They wouldn’t be able to easily see the floor show, if there was one, but at least it was a place to sit. The menu, when Rowan looked at it, did not have prices listed.

 _I can’t afford this_ , was his first thought, followed by _and neither can Max,_ and it took all his willpower to tamp down the anxiety and tell himself _we can do this_. One night. _It’s just one night._ And he would not take the full dose of LBF, though that would probably make him a lot more fun to be on a date with.

But – what if he – no, he couldn’t fake being on the full dose, and Max would notice something.

Max reached over, still looking at his own menu, and squeezed Rowan’s hand.

Rowan took a deep breath, counted, exhaled. It was fine. Max wouldn’t do this if they couldn’t afford it. “I don’t know what some of this food is,” he said, which was also true.

“To be honest, some of it escapes me as well.” Max let go of Rowan’s hand. “I think perhaps we’d be best off with the lamartine steaks.”

They ordered, and Max chose his usual whiskey to drink while they waited. Rowan wasn’t sure they had anything weak enough for him to safely drink, and stuck with something called Plumflower Water Essence. It was mildly fruity.

The singer finished her set, and the band switched to a slower tempo. Max stood and held out a hand to Rowan. “We have to wait for the food anyway,” Max said, with a slight smile. “May I have the honor of this dance, Captain Dane?”

Rowan glanced at the dance floor – yes, people were getting out there and dancing. Slow dancing. Thank God, Rowan thought, because he certainly didn’t know how to dance. Slow dancing he could probably fake. He took Max’s hand, and they walked to the dance floor.

“I don’t know how,” he murmured to Max, but didn’t run for it. They were on the dance floor, and Rowan chose to focus solely on Max. Nothing else existed. Nobody else who would see that he couldn’t dance.

“I know. Put your hand here – now let me lead,” Max said. After a moment he chuckled. “You don’t need to leave room for the chaperone, Rowan.”

Rowan blushed and stepped closer. _Just follow Max’s lead_ , he thought, and… it was easier than he’d thought. Max steered him, sometimes with words, what he should do, but overall Rowan thought he was getting the hang of it, enough that when the song ended, and Max looked him in the eye, Rowan said, “Do we have time for another, or – the food – “

“We have time,” Max said, and the band played again, and Rowan realized it was actually fun. He was dancing. Him! He leaned his head against Max’s for a few breaths. It was just the two of them, as far as he was concerned, on that dance floor; just them, dancing.

The song ended, and Rowan wanted to keep going, but the tempo picked up, and Max’s hand on his back steered him back to their table. “I don’t know the more… modern dances,” Max said, leaning close.

“You’d be fine,” Rowan said. The waitstaff was at the table, setting the food while Rowan and Max seated themselves.

Max snorted at Rowan’s statement. “Let’s stick to what we know, shall we?”

Whatever lamartine steaks were, they smelled good, with a note of “interesting”. “If we stuck to what we know, I’d be back in the Unreliable heating up a frozen dinner,” Rowan said.

“Is that where you’d rather be?”

“Right now? No,” Rowan said, lifting up a forkful of something that had once been related to an Earth vegetable. “And maybe they’ll play some more slow songs before we go? So we can dance some more?”

“I’m sure they will.”

“I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was for the prompt "Slow dancing, Max and Rowan" by @thisisrigged4. At this time in the posting of Bad Trip, Max and Rowan aren't together (yet?), though perhaps that has changed by the time you read this! This story also assumes they have some funds to afford this.
> 
> Byzantium's culture isn't much better than the rest of Halcyon culture, but I took the liberty of creating a club where - if you have enough money and status - Max could take Rowan out for dinner and dancing. Rowan wouldn't have suggested it himself, so Max had to take the lead. The club also has decent enough music that isn't all jingles and slogans, because how else could you have a dance club? I imagine the singer's repertoire is fairly corporate, though.


End file.
